MOVIE REVIEW: 'The Square' a pitch-black comedy

“The Square,” Swedish writer-director Ruben Ístlund slyly challenges us to ask ourselves if we really would save a human life.

By Al Alexander/For The Patriot Ledger

Do you want to save a human life? The answer is simple, right? Or, at least it is in theory. But with “The Square,” Swedish writer-director Ruben Östlund slyly challenges us to ask ourselves if we really would ride to the rescue, especially if that cry for help is drowned out by our own trivialities. Or worse, if taking action threatens to remove us from our well-established comfort zones.

You know the feeling. You pass by a homeless man lying motionless on the subway platform. You’d really like to help, but you’re too late for work. Or, you see somebody pick a pocket. You’d like to confront the thief, but is it worth the risk to your own safety? Does that make you a hypocrite? Östlund thinks it does. And those are the very people he gleefully satirizes in his pitch-black comedy about an elitist museum curator who fails miserably when his self-perceived benevolence is put to the test.

That would be the ironically named Christian (Claes Bang, terrific), a likable, but self-involved man of power and taste (he drives a Tesla) who champions artists whose works depict man’s inhumanity to man. Which describes perfectly his latest exhibit by an Argentine woman whose chief work is the Square, a roughly 12-by-12 box imbedded in the cobblestone courtyard outside Stockholm’s X-Royal Museum. With it rests a plaque stating: “The Square is a sanctuary of trust and caring. Within it we all share equal rights and obligations.”

It also represents the sort of phony liberalism that obviously gets Östlund’s goat. Why should peace and equality be limited to such a narrow space? His point is well-made. But why does it take him a butt-breaking 145 minutes to make it?

In that respect, his film reminded me of last year’s overlong and overrated “Toni Erdmann,” which like “The Square” was a sensation at the Cannes Film Festival where length apparently really does matter. For what it’s worth, “The Square” did walk off with the fest’s top prize, the Palme d’Or, but the cause for such hosannas escapes me.

It’s a far cry from Östlund’s last film, the marvelous, men-are-chickens comedy “Force Majeure.” What’s missing this time is any real sense of drama. Other than Christian’s job, nothing is really at stake. Rather, it’s more like a string of interconnected vignettes that all say the same thing about benevolence being dead – killed off by the heavy weight of selfishness and greed.

Oh, yes, and cowardice. For that, Christian is the poster prig, as we discover after he gets his phone and wallet pinched while reluctantly coming to the aid of a damsel rushing down the sidewalk crying “help.”

Turns out, she’s part of a well-orchestrated pickpocket scam that leaves Christian 1,500 krona shorter. But he doesn’t get mad; he wants to get even. Using the ping on his phone, he tracks the thieves to a public housing tower on the dodgy side of town. Afraid to confront them face-to-face and uncertain of the exact apartment number, he rushes through the building stuffing fliers inside every door. And what the missives say is something to the effect of I know who you are and you’d better return my wallet and phone, or else ... The joke, of course, is that Christian’s threat is all cheap talk and bluster.

Predictably, Christian’s sleuthing doesn’t go well. Neither does Christian’s one-night stand with a pretty American reporter (the always great Elisabeth Moss) who shares a flat with her large, lipstick wearing chimpanzee. In the film’s best scene, the two humans end up having a tug-of-war with Christian’s used condom, which he insists on keeping because he’s afraid she might use the collected semen to get inseminated.

Who thinks like that? How about somebody as clueless and narcissistic as Christian? The two have another squirm-inducing conversation days later, when Moss’ Anne challenges Christian to remember her name, which for an uncomfortably long period he can’t.

He’s equally feckless with his two young daughters, who we don’t even meet until more than an hour into the film when his ex drops them off for the weekend. You get the feeling he knows more about Anne than he does about his girls. And the feeling is clearly mutual; same with his underlings at the museum, who he treats like pawns instead of friends and co-workers.

In other words, Christian isn’t a very likable guy. Yet, Bang manages to render him rakishly charming, much of which can be chalked up to his extremely good looks. Think a young Pierce Brosnan.

By the end, you actually feel sorry for Christian, as his beloved art world crashes down around him. And going down with him is his – and our – definitions of what is art. Is it the neatly spaced conical piles of gravel that fill one of the museum’s galleries? Or, is it a lovely painting, a historical statue, a fine sculpture? Or, is it something like The Square, a stark representation of who and what we are as a society?

Whatever it is, Östlund profoundly urges us to look past the pretension to see what’s real, not through our eyes, but through our hearts. THE SQUARE (R for language, some strong sexual content, and brief violence.) Cast includes Claes Bang, Elisabeth Moss, Terry Notary and Dominic West. Grade: B

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